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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630358">Days In The Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faiakishi/pseuds/Faiakishi'>Faiakishi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dishonored (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Gen, Multi, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, heterosexual bullshit, like seriously this is just billie surviving life by being a bigger bitch than it, oh god just all the warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:01:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faiakishi/pseuds/Faiakishi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Delilah &amp; co. weren't fucking idiots and abducted Billie along with Sokolov.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billie Lurk | Meagan Foster &amp; Anton Sokolov, Delilah Copperspoon/Billie Lurk | Meagan Foster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Days In The Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title and summary subject to change when I think of something better. Anyone who complains gets to think of a new name. Y'all should realize by now that summaries are not a thing with me.</p><p>Sokolov has nine kids from various baby mamas running around and yet he just decides that this one weird angry lady and the motherfucking Empress are his daughters instead. (All his money went to child support btw)</p><p>Sometimes I forget that Billie is missing body parts, so sorry if I refer to her plural eyes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Anton, why are you bothering with that thing? Wait a few weeks and you can tell the Empress everything yourself!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sokolov shoots an offended look over his shoulder, his arms curling protectively around the audiograph machine. “Not every ship is as slow as this hunk of metal you call a boat! I have to send a message ahead to Corvo and Emily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what, they can have a full two day’s warning of our arrival?” Meagan leans against the doorway, taking a hit from her pipe. “If she’s half as great as you claim she is, she’ll make time for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t about that! This is about safety! If someone is working against her, then she needs to be on the lookout!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “It will get there-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it gets there two days before us, that’s two days more she knows about it! Two days someone could use this turmoil to strike at her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan huffs. “I think Attano is usually pretty good at deflecting such attempts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hush your face. Let me send my message.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are these things called letters, old man. They’re much cheaper than punchcards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And can be falsified! This way they’ll know it’s from me. They won’t have to pay attention-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, I’m sorry I asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should!” Sokolov folds his arms with a humph. “You understand these matters, Meagan, you know how notes and letters can be doctored!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I run a ship, Anton, not a federal army of spies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re far brighter than you give yourself credit for! If you’d let the hot air out of your head every once in a while and </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought </span>
  </em>
  <span>about things-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am thinking about things! I’m thinking about how pointless it is to send an audiograph to someone you’re literally about to go see-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meagan, you have made your point and I’m quite over-!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly I haven’t, since you still don’t understand-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dearest Emily,” Sokolov drawls, the spindles on the machine already whirling away. “Or must I say Your Imperial Majesty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan rolls her eye and turns on her heel, stomping across his workshop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Great. Now he’s going to need to post it, which means Meagan is going to need to post it, unless she wants to hear him bitch about ‘making him walk these old bones across Karnaca’ until the end of time. Which means she’ll either have to dock the ship before they leave or take the skiff to shore-which she doesn’t feel great about doing, with the water as rough as it is. Then she’ll have to scrounge up the coin for postage, hope it doesn’t get lost on its way to Dunwall or else Anton will accuse her of throwing it in the ocean or something to spite him. Old grouch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan ascends the stairs, grumbling and puffing on her pipe. She feels better when her face meets the brisk, salty air, but only a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leans against the rail, looking out to where the sun is melting into the ocean. She’s not happy about returning to Dunwall. Sure, she’s docked there a few times since she’s had this boat, but she was always there and gone. A week at most. She knows there’s no one left that will hold her to old promises, or even notice her return to the city she was banished from, but...still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s important. Not just to Anton, but in general. The Empress really does need to hear what they know. No matter what Meagan’s past or personal feelings about Empress Emily are, no one deserves this Crown Killer conspiracy bullshit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is just the least opportune time to be traveling from Karnaca to Dunwall, so of course the old coot wants to go now. It would be smarter to stay in Karnaca for now, collect some more evidence and go in another two months after the spring surges die down, but Sokolov’s spooked for some reason. He insists they leave immediately. Meagan tried to reason with him, remind him that they didn’t actually have much to go on besides a theory and a bit of circumstantial evidence to support it. He wouldn’t hear of it. They’d listen, he said. They’d believe him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s the captain though, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>listen to her. If anyone else tried to order her around on her own ship she’d toss them off it. She’s too damn sentimental with that man. When he meets with Corvo Attano and the Empress, Meagan might just tell them to keep him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What is she going to do about seeing them? Sokolov will want her to go with him, help him present their findings. Normally he might catch onto her discomfort and leave the subject alone, but Meagan has a feeling he’s going to insist. Attano and the Empress are very dear to him-and though the old bag will only admit it when he’s at the bottom of a wine bottle, Meagan is very dear to him as well. He’ll want to introduce them to each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barring the fact that Meagan is not someone you parade in front of the Empress of the Isles anyway-should she wear an eyepatch and look even more like the smuggler she is, or does someone with missing body parts just waltz into the throne room showing off their jagged edges and gross bodily discharge? She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to face them. Attano and the Empress are strangers to her, but Anton thinks the world of them and she trusts Anton’s judgement. Mostly, at least. And either way, they didn’t deserve...well, any of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can pull it off. Keep a straight face, act like nothing more than the dodgy ship captain they’ll expect her to be. Meagan Foster, after all, has no history with them. When Meagan Foster sees the Empress’s face stamped on her coins her mind immediately goes to a little girl thrashing in her arms, squealing and crying and pounding her little fists against her, but that’s just a nightmare. So weird. Meagan Foster doesn’t know where that came from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wouldn’t recognize her. No one has, none for the people who saw her beneath the mask all those years ago, and no one has recognized the girl she was before that went on. She wonders sometimes if even the Duke would recognize her face now, after all this time. (She would still recognize his, even if it wasn’t stamped on half the coins that passed her hand down her in Serkonos. His face is burned into her mind) Corvo Attano must have heard about the little street girl who murdered the son of Theodanis Abele, the man he served before being sent off to Dunwall. Probably knew the brat. Probably searched for her, dreamed of sending her head back to Karnaca.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doesn’t matter. That little street girl died a long time ago. Meagan Foster doesn’t know shit about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan puffs on her pipe, watches the sunset and thinks. It’s still too breezy to safely take her skiff out, and it would be dark by the time she docked anyway. She’ll have to go in the morning, leave before Anton wakes up and maybe when she gets back he’ll have breakfast on the table for her. They’ll have to set off for Dunwall, and hope they can bypass the worst-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MEAGAN!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan drops her pipe. Turns on her heels, her hand already on the knife she keeps strapped to her belt. She draws it as she beelines for the door, then she fumbles with the door handle as she struggles to grasp it and the knife at once. She curses to herself, tucks the knife under her armpit, grabs the handle-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And sees a shadow at the stern of her ship. Pulling themselves onto the deck, a body thrown over their shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She runs. She runs on light feet, all but silent as she moves over the deck. She grabs the knife as she approaches, readying it as she closes in. She can see Sokolov raise his head, look to her, and Meagan raises her blade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the figure turns. And in one smooth motion Sokolov is thrown off its back, the creature surging forward and closing the twenty feet between them far too fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan is thrown off her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing makes a sound between a gasp and a pant, coming together in an almost sort of laughter it barrels into her. But Meagan is nothing if not experienced, and she twists onto her side as she falls, rolling over before the creature can get her pinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>then?” the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>snarls. “Dessert? Someone’s already taken a bite out of this one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” There’s a thump, and Sokolov’s shoe smacks down on the ground. “Meagan, run!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>run </span>
  </em>
  <span>little prey! Let me catch you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan is on her feet in an instant. She’s not going to run-if the speech part of her brain was working right now she would chew the old man out for even thinking she’d leave him-but she turns to the creature and grounds herself, readies her knife, ready to pounce-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it makes no difference. When the creature slams into her the ground just leaves her feet, and she’s on her back again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thing racks its claws over her chest, puts its face close to hers. And Meagan has to cringe away, this ghastly face wrapped in bandages, only one wild eye looking back at her. One glowing, icy blue eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan aims at its jugular.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The creature catches her wrist, holds it mid-air. It grins at her as Meagan feels her muscles strain, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sees </span>
  </em>
  <span>her arm shake with effort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well now, aren’t you a little firebrand?” the creature laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another shoe bounces off the side of its head. “Get off her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan is still straining against the hold, still held down by what feels like a mountain on  top of her. The creature moves its knee onto her chest, raising her arm and flicking something up from its wrist. “I was supposed to save this for Sokolov, if he put up too much of a fuss. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>much more fussy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cringes away from the needle, but Meagan feels the prick at her neck. And she knows what’s coming, has felt it before, but Meagan still tries to fight it. After a few seconds her limbs begin losing strength. The creature pushes her arm to the side with ease, her hand uncurling to release her knife. Her head begins to grow heavy, the space between her brain and skull thick and fuzzy. And she fights it, but Meagan’s eyes begin to slip closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does catch a glimpse, though, of the creature getting to its feet, staring down manically at her. At Sokolov rushing at it, only to be halted and thrown back to the ground. And she sees the creature turn to him, kneel down right before her vision cuts off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Off we go now. Both you and your friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all she remembers.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She feels like she’s frozen in a block of ice when she awakes. Cold pressed up against her back, cold wrapping its fingers around her. She winces at the light behind her eyelid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Meagan. Meagan…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are, Miss Foster, it’s alright. No quick movements.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice is worried, but kind. And their fingers are warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please be gentle with her. You must tell them-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, Anton, I’m not made of glass.” Meagan cracks her eye open, immediately regretting that decision. She squeezes it shut again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meagan!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy now. Don’t panic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Panic ‘bout what?” Meagan grumbles as she lifts her hand. Only to meet resistance. Something wrapped around her wrist, pulling it down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jerks. Her shoulders barely move, some force pressing her down. Meagan opens her eye, squinting in the light, and peers down at herself. Straps cross her body, three just holding down her upper torso and two more over her knees and ankles. Underneath her stump has been lashed tight against her body with a length of rope, and another strap is wound around her wrist, tying it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?” Meagan yanks again on the wrist strap and begins to twist her body. “The fuck is this?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t freak out, Miss Foster.” The fingers are back at her temple, holding her head down until the back of her skull is pressed against whatever she’s lying on. “You could very well injure yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll injure more than that if you don’t fucking untie me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that. And if you won’t be still I’ll have to use the forehead strap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meagan, listen to him. Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A face appears above her. Dark-skinned, shaved head, nervous blue eyes and bruising down the entire left side of his face. “Calm down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan purses her lips and glares at him, but she stops struggling. Partially because Anton asked, but also because the guy just looks so damn terrified she knows he can’t be much of a threat. And she doesn’t want to give him a heart attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bald guy takes his hands off her then, taking a step back. Meagan turns her head to the side, where she heard Sokolov’s voice coming from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s on a cot, wrists behind his back and his ankles tied together. He lays on his side, looking at her sadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Anton?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I okay? You look at the two of us and you ask if </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan rolls her eyes at him. Of the two of them she’s clearly the greater threat, so her extra restraints make sense. She’s been tied down to some sort of table. Long and thin, white metal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re in some sort of lab, she guesses. Countertops littered with beakers and equipment, some shelves off near the doors filled with glass jars. Sunlight streams in through the windows, but they’re too high up for her to look out of and without orientation she can’t get a good estimate on the time. It’s been at least twelve hours though, if the sun’s risen again. The tile on this floor is horrendously ugly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan turns back to Sokolov. “Where are we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Addemire Institute. I was drifting in and out the entire boat ride here, but I recognize this place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Addemire? Great, where’s your friend Hypatia? Will she help us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sokolov looks at her sadly, and turns his head to the bald-ass dude from before. “Hypatia is...the one who abducted you two, I’m afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it sounds ridiculous-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me some wimp-ass doctor overpowered me? I’m not even convinced that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>was human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was her,” Sokolov agrees quietly. “I didn’t believe it myself until I saw her face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hypatia is...she’s not herself,” Baldo rambles. “And you’re right in that she does things that aren’t entirely human. She’s stronger than what should be possible. There was no way you could have defended yourself against her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Meagan.” Sokolov’s voice sounds timid and sad. “If I knew what she was I </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>would have involved you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck off old man, what were you going to do? Fight her yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to be brought into this. There was no point in us both being captured.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like hell is someone coming onto </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>ship and abducting my passengers right from under my nose.” She jerks her head. “Anyway, who’s this guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doctor Vasco, miss.” He folds his hands together and holds them in front of himself. “Or madam? I apologize, is this your wife, Doctor Sokolov?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who, Meagan? She’s only young enough to be my granddaughter. Piss off with that, I’m not nearly good-looking enough for a trophy wife.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, um, I’ll take it you’re not married then, Miss Foster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan rolls her eyes. “In any case I’m too damn old to be called ‘miss’. Call me Captain Foster, or just call me Meagan like a normal fucking person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t take it personally, Vasco. She’s this hostile to everyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>take it personally. He’s our fucking jailer, Anton.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m just as trapped as you are.” Vasco smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Hypatia won’t let me leave either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then untie us. We’ll get you out of here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would. Truly I would. But you saw Alexandria. She can’t...you can’t protect yourself from her. No one can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say shit about fighting her. I said we were going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>run. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Steal a boat and we’ll take it back to my ship, we’ll set sail for Dunwall-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well if you don’t have the </span>
  <em>
    <span>balls </span>
  </em>
  <span>to help yourself, then do one thing to prove you have a spine,” Sokolov spits. He motions his head to Meagan on the table. “Release her. She can run fast and once she steps into the shadows they won’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>her. When they discover her missing we can tell them she broke free and overwhelmed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you can! Just unhitch those straps and Meagan will do the rest!” He turns to Meagan, his eyes wild. “Meagan, listen to me, get out and run. Don’t bother going back to the ship, get to Dunwall some other way. Don’t let them find you again. Go to Emily, tell her what’s happened. Corvo will protect you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you nuts, old man? Like hell I’m leaving you here, and if he’s setting anyone free it’s going to be you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be daft! I’d make it to the end of this lab before I’d need to take a rest. I’d never make it back to Karnaca. No, I’m old and I’ve lived my life. Vasco, Meagan has years in front of her, save </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anton Sokolov, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re not dying in the back of some mad scientist’s lab. If he’s saving anyone he’s saving your annoying ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit your stubbornness! I won’t watch you meet your end on that operating table! I </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’ll go and you’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>live. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Vasco, free her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do any of that.” Vasco holds up his hands. “You don’t know the people in the next room-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know them very well! And I know I do not want to see Meagan in their clutches!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But she can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>run </span>
  </em>
  <span>from them. She’ll never even make it off the island, and whatever they’ll do to her then will just be worse.” He shakes his head. “The only way I could help either of you is to end you now. I don’t know what they have planned for either of you, but that’s the only way you’ll avoid it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re useless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the fuck are you talking about, Anton?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sokolov’s head drops back down onto the cot. “Oh, two former apprentices of mine. Three if you count Alexandria. You’ll recognize Kirin, but you wouldn’t have heard of the other one. Thought she was dead, if I’m being honest. They both have a special hatred of me, I’m afraid, though it’s reprehensible to involve you in any of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were quite insistent on keeping her alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t know her! They have no quarter with her, they had no reason to take her captive in the first place! Vasco, march in there and </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell </span>
  </em>
  <span>them! Meagan has done nothing wrong and they must release her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe if you explain it to them when they come back…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They will not listen to me! Kirin and Delilah will want to hurt her if only to hurt me, Alexandria is out of her mind and I don’t even know what the Duke wants with her, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Duke is here?” Meagan’s stomach drops.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vasco nods tenaciously. “Yes, he arrived with the others. They’re in Alexandria’s office right now, talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan nods, lets her head fall back onto the table. She stares up at the lights, running through her list of options and coming up blank. Finally, she speaks in a whisper. “Can you make it look like an accident? So you don’t get in trouble?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vasco’s quiet for a second, but then she hears his footsteps. “I can make it seem like you simply suffered a heart attack. It will be painless, I assure you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Sokolov’s voice almost breaks, and Meagan hates how the sound tears at her. “No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Meagan, </span>
  </em>
  <span>please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no escape, Anton, and no one’s coming to save us. Might as well get this over with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What business does the Duke have with you? We’ll figure this out, Meagan, give it some time-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anton.” She snaps her head to the side. “I’m not getting out of this alive. Once the Duke walks in here he will not walk out until I’m dead.” She stares into him. “I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>give him the satisfaction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck the Duke! Meagan, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can’t watch you die! You, put down that syringe! Don’t you touch her!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sokolov. It’s her life. Her choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If she’s so insistent on dying then kill me first! I’ve seen enough death, Meagan, don’t make me see yours. Just put us both out of our misery and be done with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I-I can’t kill you both,” Vasco gets out. “One of you dying of a freak heart attack is plausible, but they’ll never believe that both of you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, to the Void with that! If you kill her you kill us both, do you hear me? Don’t you dare leave me here to watch her rot!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure they’ll do something with me, Anton.” Meagan keeps her eyes on the ceiling. “Before I start smelling up the place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Kirin will cut you open while I watch. He’ll pull out your heart and make me hold it, Meagan, and if he does I’ll die. I’ll just bloody die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be so dramatic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Kirin, and he will defile your corpse. He will make me watch him do it, make me talk about you when you were alive while looking into your dead eyes. And when he’s done then Delilah will likely take your bones and carve patterns into them-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Delilah.” Meagan turns her head to the side. “Delilah, you can’t possibly be talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>Delilah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have we spoken about her? Not sure why I would have told you about her, it was so long ago-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anton. This Delilah. Tall, skinny woman?” It can’t be. “Obsessed with black magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You knew her, Meagan? She doesn’t sound like the type you run with-but then, your choice of friends often surprises me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not possible. It’s simply not possible. “It can’t be her,” she says, more to herself. “She’s dead. She...she can’t be-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the lab swings open, heels clicking across the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, hell</span>
  <em>
    <span>ooo.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Delilah grins, teeth bared and eyes glowing in delight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan just stares at her for a second. Trying to wrap her head around it, trying to reconcile her narrative with reality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you’re not happy to see me?” Delilah pretends to pout. “I’m insulted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Copperspoon, enough of this.” Delilah’s smirk falls off her face when Sokolov’s voice comes booming out from behind her. “Your quarter is with me. Meagan was nothing but a bystander. Release her at once!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are in no position to make demands, Sokolov. I think you’ll find our roles in power have been switched.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing, my dear assistant?” The creature from earlier flies across the room, slamming Doctor Vasco into the counter with a yell. “What’s this you have here?” she asks, prying the syringe out of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vasco flushes. “I was just-I was getting more sleeping tincture, in case she needed to be dosed again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing in here but air, my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drop the syringe.” Delilah’s voice is flat. “You do nothing to my prisoners without my direct order, is that clear? Don’t make me rethink your usefulness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-y-yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meagan is finally able to tear her eyes from Delilah to the others that have filed in behind her. Even with fifteen years on her face, she recognizes Breanna immediately. Her pinched, perpetually displeased expression, eyes narrowed at Meagan on the table. A smaller man with a weird, thin mustache-that must be Kirin Jindosh. She’s heard of him. Never seen him, but she knows enough that he could be no one else. Delilah. Ashworth. Hypatia. Jindosh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Duke Luca Abele, standing directly behind Delilah and glaring a hole through her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You leave that boy out of this too,” Sokolov growls. “He did nothing but follow your instructions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m thirty-three years old, I’m not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re half my age, which makes you a boy to me. Now be quiet. Delilah, you have no reason to hurt Meagan. She was no match for Alex, she poses no threat to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem awfully invested in ‘Meagan’s’ well-being, Sokolov, why is that?” Delilah smiles down on him like a hyena.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s probably put a spell on him,” Abele says under his breath. “Bewitched him to stick his own neck out for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, of all people I never thought of you two as compatible.” Delilah looks between the two, that smug grin still on her face. “If you’d ever met I would have predicted you’d tear each other apart. And yet you were traveling together as, what, friends? Lovers? Partners in crime?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sokolov has a number of bastards,” Jindosh remarks dryly, examining his nails. “Perhaps she’s one of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to him, Breanna rolls her eyes. “She is the bottle’s daughter, a child of the river. She has no father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meagan is just a captain,” Sokolov tells them insistently. “She means nothing to me. I am just trying to avoid needless death.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, really?” Delilah turns and draws Duke Abele’s sword from his scabbard. She waltzes back over to Meagan on the table, turning the blade down and poising the tip straight over her chest. “So you won’t mind it I carve out her heart, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Sokolov falls off the couch, landing face down on the floor. Jindosh giggles while Breanna merely rolls her eyes and steps forward, pulling Sokolov back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah chuckles. “It seems she means more to you than you’ve let on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grins down at Meagan, bound helplessly below her. Meagan only snarls, finding her voice at last. “Fuck you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you? That’s how you greet me? I’m disappointed, little flower.” But she pulls the sword back, handing it off to Abele, who keeps it readied in his hand. “I would have thought you’d be happier to see me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meagan, how do you two know each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop calling her that.” The Duke’s voice is hard. “That’s not her name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m well aware that’s not the name her mother gave her! She chooses not to use that one. It’s her right not to tell me.” Sokolov huffs. “If I could have left my name behind and been done with it I would have. She had every right to pursue a new life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The things you do aren’t attached to a name. You don’t get to weasel out of them by shedding it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d say something about irony,” Meagan spits at him. “But I know your brain is too small to understand it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abele’s face contorts in rage. He marches forward, sword in hand, only to be stopped by a single hand. “Luca, Luca.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just the tongue,” he says, eyes boring into Meagan. “Let me cut out her tongue. I can’t stand to hear her speak!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never know. She might have something interesting to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave her be,” Sokolov repeats. “If you’re going to punish people for past actions then this entire room should be gassed. Meagan has been nothing but a good person for as long as I’ve known her, and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really have no idea who she is, do you?” Delilah cocks her head, smiling down at him. “Oh, Sokolov.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care who she used to be,” Sokolov says with confidence. “I care about the person she’s shown me she is. She’s proven to be a selfless and hardworking woman, a loyal friend, and the world is better off for her existence. Which is far more than I can say for the two of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You say this all without knowing her true identity. Why do you think she’s concealed her past, old man? Don’t you wonder what secrets she keeps? Has it ever occurred to you that the reason she hasn’t told you is because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>you will hate her for it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing she could ever do to make me hate her,” Sokolov says sincerely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Delilah.” Meagan’s hands shake. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she says, low and threatening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah merely smiles at her, and turns back to Sokolov. “This woman here,” she says, patting the top of Meagan’s head. “Is a murderer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop talking,” Meagan demands. “He doesn’t need to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She started killing for coin at sixteen, barely old enough to bleed herself when she began drawing blood from innocents. She trained under one of the best killers-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to kill me anyway,” Meagan presses. “Just do it and get it over with.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Leave </span>
  </em>
  <span>him alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>”-was so brutal and cruel that she rose through the ranks to eventually stand beside her master, cloaked in the same shade of red they painted their victims in. She was there, </span>
  <em>
    <span>aided </span>
  </em>
  <span>him in his most famous killing-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Delilah. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she begs, and Meagan </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>begs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The assassination of Jessamine Kaldwin,” Delilah finishes triumphantly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>is Billie Lurk, the right hand of the Knife of Dunwall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie screams through her teeth as she lurches up at Delilah, her eye burning with hate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Sokolov stares blankly. “No...no, I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been living with her for years,” Breanna barks at him. “You must have realized she was more than a ship captain. Is it really so difficult to believe that she was a paid killer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we, but...Billie Lurk is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fictional </span>
  </em>
  <span>character, invented for the penny novels!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was very real. Delilah and I knew her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Personally.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her name was well-known even then, you old fool, did you never look at wanted posters? Even before pretty Jessamine’s death thrust them into the spotlight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was a murderer before Daud,” Abele growls. “He can’t take credit for bloodying her hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right, she killed Luca’s brother Radanis too. Went mad and stabbed him in the eye. Only, what, twenty-two years old? She was always rather bloodthirsty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I gave him was </span>
  <em>
    <span>justice,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Billie spits, shifting her eyes to Abele. “And if I’d known a hundredth of what I know now you would have died with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is utterly and completely depraved.” Abele straightens out his lapels. “I should fetch my guards now, get her loaded onto the boat. Don’t worry, little rat, we’ll dispose of your body by sewer drain afterwards. So what’s left of you can rot with the rest of the filth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie spits. It lands on his shoe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abele’s face goes red. “I’m going to put you in a cage,” he hisses, leaning into her. “I’m going to hang it over a fire and watch you dance. And when that stops being amusing I’m going to turn you on your side and roast you slowly. I’ll listen to you sing and raise a toast in my brother’s name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie curls her lip. “I won’t scream for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make you eat those words.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luca, you will do no such thing.” Delilah pulls him back, hands on his shoulders. “Lurk is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>prisoner. I have my own past with her to work out, and I will decide what to do with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’ll let me kill her in the end.” Delilah stalks past him, nose in the air. “Delilah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You, </span>
  </em>
  <span>old man,” Delilah continues, as if the conversation had been geared towards this all along. “I’ve decided to give to Kirin. You’ve been wonderfully informative all night, but now I’m afraid you’ve served your purpose. Kirin still has plenty of use for you, however. He believes you can aid him in creating a model of clockwork soldier that is more feasible to produce on the scale we need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sokolov snorts. “Yes, put me in charge of your fancy super weapon. That won’t backfire at all!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t try and outsmart me, old friend,” Jindosh warns. “I could run circles around you even in my younger days. Now, well, noncompliance will not end well for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, go to the Void, Kirin. Give me half an opportunity and I’ll drag you there with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough. Kirin, you’ll take him,” Delilah says concisely. “Wring out every last bit of use you can out of him, see if you can’t figure out a better way to build our army. After that I really don’t care what you do with him. Kill him, keep him as your pet, whatever. But I don’t want him seeing the light of day ever again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood. It will be done.” Jindosh does a little bow. “Your generosity is appreciated, Lady Delilah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to lay a goddamn finger on him,” Billie barks. “If you hurt him I will shove your stupid vape fingers up your fucking ass, do you hear me, I’ll-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her words are stifled by fabric, balled up and shoved into her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do shut up, dear.” Delilah shoves the last bits of cloth down with the tips of her fingers. Billie yells into it, but it loses its effect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might have better success if you allow me to take her as well,” Jindosh says flatly, staring at her. “Sokolov will likely be more open to our ideas if he watches me saw into her remaining limbs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s mine,” Abele growls. “After what she did to my brother, it’s only right I get my vengeance. She needs to pay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she will. I need more test subjects for fine-tuning my electroshock machine anyway. I can make her last a dozen or two sessions, and she’ll wish she had been given to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you do such a thing, Jindosh, I’ll feed you through this machine yourself,” Sokolov growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will </span>
  <em>
    <span>also,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jindosh swivels on his heels, casting a piercing glance at Sokolov. “Serve to </span>
  <em>
    <span>warn </span>
  </em>
  <span>him of his own fate if he refuses to help me. Seeing her reduced to a state of mindless stupor should motivate him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want her stupid! I want her to remember everything. I want her lucid until her dying breath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If your goal is to make her suffer, then give her to me.” Breanna stares down at her with cold eyes. “I know her fears. And I know how to keep a subject alive through things that should kill them. Nothing short of beheading will end her suffering before you deem it time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t rewarded me for bringing the old man,” the creature seethes. “Her meat will suffice. Oh, there is power in her bones. I long to gnaw at them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoever kills her, don’t give her to Alex afterwards.” Jindosh wrinkles his nose, walking over and running his finger down Billie’s sternum. “Such a waste of a good specimen. It will be interesting to cut her open, see how the people of Pandyssia differ from those of the civilized world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She belongs in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>trash, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not your operating table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’ve never had a test subject from the Continent! How close is her lineage to the natives, Lady Delilah? I can see subtle differences in her facial structure, but you said only one of her parents had Pandyssian ancestry? Sokolov, did you ever treat her? Did you notice anything different about her body, her muscular system or her behavior in general? Did you keep her other arm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I knew the extent of your vileness, Jindosh, you would have left the Academy wrapped in a sheet. Get your filthy hands away from her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t belong to any of you,” Delilah announces, clearly and without leaving room for argument. “She’s my prisoner. And I will do with her what I like.” She turns away, calling over her shoulder. “Doctor-boy, dose her again. Put Sokolov to sleep as well, it will be easier to transport them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you keeping us together? Delilah! Give me an answer at least!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vasco’s face appears in her vision, and he gives an apologetic smile as he holds up a syringe filled with green liquid. “I’m sorry, captain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, please...no…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie shakes her head, but it does her no good. Vasco injects the toxin at her neck and the effect kicks in within seconds. Her eyelids grow heavy again, and all her thoughts seem to float away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone pulls the gag from her mouth, but Billie is too far gone to make use of it.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Billie’s eye flutters open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s confused for a moment. She remembers being captured, being tied down to a table. And then...Delilah. This is the part that confuses her, because Delilah is dead. Why is she thinking of her? Then she remembers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ceiling is wood, white plaster border. Not something she’d expect to find in a prison cell. She can hear ocean waves not too far from her ears as well. Also not something found near a prison. Not in Karnaca, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s...lying on a bed. A comfortable bed, wide and soft, her head resting against a pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie sits up. The room is bright, sunlight streaming in through the windows, which take up nearly two entire walls. There are fine cabinets with granite tops, floor-length armoires and chests of drawers. A heavy wooden desk with nothing on it. And flowers. So many flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, as beautiful as it is, it’s still her prison cell. Billie slides her legs over the side of the bed to stand up, and winces when her feet touch the floor. Her </span>
  <em>
    <span>bare </span>
  </em>
  <span>feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knows for a fact she was wearing boots before. Fuckers took her shoes. Billie </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates </span>
  </em>
  <span>being barefoot. She didn’t have a pair of shoes to her name for the first seven years of her life, and she stepped on enough broken glass then. Everywhere she’s lived since, you’d risk tetanus walking around without shoes. She likes her goddamn shoes. And those boots were expensive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie presses her feet against the floor, shivering at the chill that runs through them, and looks down. Only to find that her legs are bare as well as her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her sleeves, gone. The jagged scars on her stump are on full display. The soft comforter beneath her is touching her bare flesh. She’s not wearing pants. Not wearing a shirt. She’s completely naked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She expects to feel something. Anger, obviously. She’s angry. Angry about the situation, angry about Anton. Angry because she really fucking liked that coat and they don’t make that style anymore. She waits to feel violated. To feel helpless, which was obviously their intention in stripping her. She doesn’t. She just feels pissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a little confused. Shouldn’t she have noticed she was naked? Even entering the Serkonan springtime, it wasn’t quite so hot that the heat and humidity would wrap around her like a set of clothing. And it was actually quite cool in here. Billie feels it on the balls of her feet, where her flesh presses against the silky comforter. Yet there are no goosebumps on her skin. Not even the slightest discomfort. She’s not cold, or hot. Just...comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wasting time. Billie needs to take stock and start forming a plan. If she wants to get out of this alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stands up, takes a step forward to take a look at her door. But, to her surprise, there is no door. The doorway just opens up to another room, where she can see a long dining table set up. And more besides that, but Billie leans back before she can get a good look at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another door in here, to her far left, though when she peers through the keyhole she sees that it’s only a bathroom. No one waiting for her in there. And more importantly, no way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just breathe, she reminds herself as she stands up straight. Just breathe. Think. She’s Billie Lurk, and she’s gotten herself out of worse jams than this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has. But thing is, she hasn’t been Billie Lurk for a very long time. She hopes she’s not rusty at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First things first, she needs to take care of the whole nudity problem. Billie glances around, taking stock of the various cabinets and drawers. Would they give her clothes? Why would they strip her naked then leave her clothes? There’s a wall of built-in shelving in the bathroom, and that’s where Billie starts rummaging. Nothing seems quite right though. She’s close to the sea, so her escape route will possibly take her into the water. Which is fine. She needs something tight, without lots of fabric, something that won’t create drag in the water and slow her down. It doesn’t have to look pretty-it just has to make her decent. She can’t take any of these. Too many have long sleeves, bows and ruffles, are made of heavy material that would turn suffocating in the water. She tells herself to make a compromise and just pick something, anything, so she can move on. But she can’t. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck it, she can worry about the clothes later. They’ll just slow her down if she has to swim anyway. Billie thrums up more courage than she feels and marches into the next room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s also empty-from the sound of it, these rooms are all empty. Billie can’t hear a single other person. But it’s here she strikes silver. There’s a door in here, leading out to a patio. Billie runs over and throws them open without delay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not even locked! She walks straight out of her prison, literally. She feels the sea breeze on her skin, the salt in her nose, and Billie feels herself instantly decompress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her captors were idiots. Leaving her in an unlocked room, not even chained up. It’s almost insulting. Did they think the fact that they put her on one of the upper floors would dissuade her? Billie leans over the railing and peers down. The drop isn’t nothing, but she’s walked away from worse. There’s even a bit of cliff in the corner she can just climb down, if she can make the jump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>the ocean from here, the path winding down some stairs and then behind some building with a glass dome for a roof. No guards, as far as she can see. Billie bites her lip. The day is sunny, barely windy, and the sea is relatively calm. Cold, sure, but Billie can deal with cold. She’s used to the cold. If she can just get to the water’s edge, she’d be free. Billie’s not the fastest swimmer, nor the most graceful, but she’s a strong one. She knows how to avoid riptides, how to float on her back when she’s tired. And she can hold her breath for a very, very long time. Even if she was spotted, she could dive underwater. Swim like mad in one direction and they’d probably lose her before she had to resurface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s too easy. Would the people who captured her really be this stupid? Abele, she could believe that. But if Abele was put in charge of her lodgings, Billie can’t imagine him putting her here. She’d probably be dead already, if he was making that decision. No, Delilah put her here. And Delilah is smarter than this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something she’s not seeing. Most likely there’s a trap. Twenty men waiting just around the corner, waiting to ambush her. Then they’d...what, drag her back kicking and screaming? Then she’d be right back where she would be if she just sat here, waiting. Imprisoned. Kill her? Delilah clearly wants her alive. For now. She has nothing to lose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if there are people waiting to apprehend her, Billie can fight them. Even with no armor and missing an arm and an eye, she’s still pretty confident she can take down an average guard. Maybe a small group of them. If they don’t have explosives. She can probably sneak by then too, hide from them. And if all else fails, she can run fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s still naked, but that’s a problem for future Billie, she figures. Nobody will see her in the water anyway. She figures she can swim for a few hours, relatively close to shore, just far enough away where she wouldn’t be immediately visible. Once dusk starts to fall she can swim ashore and choke out the first fucking person she sees and take </span>
  <em>
    <span>their </span>
  </em>
  <span>clothes. She can figure shit out from there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie swings her leg over the edge, straddling the railing. And...stops. She looks down at the ground and can’t move. She sends the message to her leg to lift over the railing, to join her other leg on the outer ledge, but it just...doesn’t comply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shifts the other way and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>works, so she can pull herself back in. Billie puts her hand on the railing and frowns. She tries putting her other leg forward first. Same result. She drags over a chair, climbs it in order to simply step over the rail. Now she finds that she can’t lift a single toe. She just stands on the chair, looking over the railing like an idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie hops down with a burn in her cheeks. Okay. Okay, she can’t do that for...reasons. Magic? She doesn’t fucking know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not important. She can’t escape that way, so it’s not important anymore. She needs to focus on other things, ways she </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>escape. She’s only wasting time otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coming back inside, Billie notices the canvas set up against the wall. The cloths covering the floor, the paints lying uncovered on every available surface. The sketches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>These are Delilah’s quarters. She should have realized it sooner, but...well, Billie was thinking about other things. She wasn’t thinking too hard about the plants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She should have. Billie Lurk would have realized it sooner. She’s gotten too used to being Meagan Foster, who doesn’t get kidnapped by crazy witches and spoiled brat dukes. But she’s going to have to start thinking like Billie Lurk again if she’s going to survive being Billie Lurk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did she wake up in Delilah’s quarters? No, that was a pointless question. One she’ll never find the answer to because Billie will be gone before Delilah has a chance to explain herself. She needs to focus on that, the being gone part. She can wonder to her heart’s content when she’s laying on someone’s rooftop tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah’s studio-ish room connects to what Billie would either consider a parlor or a library. She doesn’t know what the actual criteria is, so she just defines the room as stuffy in her head and moves on. The room it opens into is long, mostly bare aside from a harp and a piano set up at the end, near the windows, and a single chair. And the flowers, of course. And the weird paintings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A door there, an </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual </span>
  </em>
  <span>door. Billie drops to a knee and peers through the keyhole. Right there is a hallway with two staircases, leading up and down. Completely abandoned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not exactly the best scenario, sneaking through a mansion she’s not familiar with, but she’ll take it. If she can go up, that would be perfect. Get out onto another balcony, get above everybody’s heads. Maybe get up onto the roof. She can watch people from there. She’d be in control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie turns the knob and the door swings open. Unlocked, again. She goes to step out and meets another brick wall. Her feet won’t move. She can feel her muscles straining under her skin, but her joints won’t listen. She stands, motionless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie slams the door shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an alcove off of Delilah’s studio, one with a door. Another empty hallway, an elevator. Using it would be noisy, but Billie can climb up and down shafts, ride on top of the lift if she needs to. She can’t go out this door either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffs and returns to the bedroom. She plops down on the bed, folding her arms and staring at the wall angrily. She’s bored with that in a minute. Then she gets to her feet again, moves towards one of the armoires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps the clothes situation could be sorted out now. Yes, once she has some clothes on, then Billie can return to her other problems. Leaving this damn place, figuring out her next move, trying to remember where Jindosh fucking lives and how she was going to go about rescuing Anton from him, how they’re going to get to Dunwall without Delilah finding them again. Whether Anton will even want anything to do with her now. If he’ll just tell Corvo Attano the truth about her the moment she gets him in front of the Empress, if he’ll just let them take her head off then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can worry about that later. She can worry about dressing herself now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, all the clothes here were probably in Delilah’s size, but Billie should be able to find something to work with. She used to favor lofty blouses and soft suits, things with extra room. She seems to have gotten slimmer, somehow, while Billie has retained her muscled and sturdy build. Still. Billie is no small woman, but she’s certainly not a big one. If she can find a shirt she’s not busting out the top of and pants that will stay on her hips, it’ll fucking do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except when she goes to pull one of the drawers out, she can’t. Can’t even lift her hands. Billie feels her eyelid twitch before she punches the drawer in question-and of course, she can do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t open anything, she finds. Not the drawers, not the cabinets. She bends over to read the titles on Delilah’s bookshelf and she can’t even pull one of the books out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can return to the bathroom, thankfully, but there’s nothing in here that could be useful. She can’t bring herself to even touch the clothing anymore, and when she slams the folding closet door closed out of frustration she can’t pull it open again.  There’s only a single window, metal bars welded into the design, impossible to slip out of even if she could force her hands to comply and slide it open. So she only glares at the bathtub for a minute before turning to leave again, only to catch a glimpse of white in the mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie stops, stares at herself. Still her ugly, broken face. Still has all her scars, all the knife wounds and shrapnel. The rippling scar on one of her breasts, where a lover accidentally burned her in a very nonsexy way. The jagged cut at her hairline, so faint by this point that it was barely noticeable, from one of the many times her mother threw a bottle at her head. She’s all there. Just as she usually is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, though, there’s white wrapped around the base of her neck, sitting right above her collar bone. Pearls, they look like. And Billie hates pearls, always hated how the rich clutched their strings and valued them by how clean and pure they looked, all of which she’s sure she ranted to Delilah about at some point in the past. Probably when she was drunk. Delilah must know of her distaste for pearls, must have given her this string as a giant middle finger. And the thought annoys Billie much more than it really should. She reaches up to touch them-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And snatches her hand away in surprise. They are not pearls. They’re charged, humming, alive. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bones.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah has given her a necklace of carved bone. Human or whale, she doesn’t know. Billie’s not entirely sure she wants to know. She knows there’s magic etched into its surface. Feels it when she lays her fingers on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s...odd. Different from the magic Billie knows. The bones don’t sing, don’t reek of blackness and the Void like the charms do. They feel almost subtle. A quiet power.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie wants it off her. Away from her skin. But she knows, even before she goes to tug, that the necklace will not come off. That the same magic keeping her from stepping through doors and opening cupboards keeps her from removing this as well. Her fingers do not comply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s secured around her throat. And there’s nothing Billie can do about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s almost dark by the time Billie hears another person. The lamps have come on outside, but Billie doesn’t know where the light switches are and she’s too stubborn to look, so she sits with her arms folded and stares out the window until she hears talking, footsteps. And Billie sweeps to her feet when she hears the door open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She marches out of the bedroom, through the studio, towards the soft laughter she hears. And then she stands at the doorway to the parlor, folds her arms in the direction of the front door. Fuming.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Delilah.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah turns around, a breezy smile on her lips. “Oh, there you are Lurk! And here I was wondering if you had just slept the whole day away!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abele is behind her, wearing something stupid and fancy. She glares at him too. And he glares back. Delilah waltzes over, smiling as if nothing’s amiss. “It’s so dark in here! You’ll have to have the lights on for me next time, dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She breezes past her. Billie grits her teeth and turns her body. “What am I </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing </span>
  </em>
  <span>here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly not turning the lights on.” With that, all the lamps light up at once. “It’s just this panel over here. Controls all the lights in my apartment. See?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I meant. Answer me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll speak to her with more respect.” Billie presses her back against the doorway as Abele advances on her, his eyes narrow and hateful. “She owns you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stiffens up as he draws closer, but she refuses to move. “She may have</span>
  <em>
    <span> your</span>
  </em>
  <span> balls in her back pocket, but she doesn’t control me. Now fuck off before I put something through your eye too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abele’s face turns red almost comically fast. “This is my palace you’re standing in! I will not sit here and be insulted by some garbage street whore-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luca, Luca,” Delilah says from somewhere off to the side. “Lurk is still getting used to things. Have patience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been more than patient. I’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>merciful. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The fact that you’re standing here in my home is proof of that!” His finger ends up leveled with Billie’s nose. “If it were up to me, you would be dying right now. A slow, painful death. I wanted to roast you over the coals. Just hot enough to blister, not enough smoke to kill you. You’d suffer for days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie raises her chin. “And if it were up to me, I’d tie you to a lamppost in Batista and let the dust suffocate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Duke’s face turns purple, and he rears back like he’s going to strike her. Billie acts on instinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reaches around the doorway, her fingers closing around the base of a candlestick. It’s not the best weapon-why didn’t she think to look for something to use as a weapon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>why?</span>
  </em>
  <span>-but it’ll do. For now. For this. She draws back, raises her arm up, then-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing. She can’t bring it down on Abele’s stupid greasy head. She can’t move her arm. She’s frozen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abele seems even angrier now, having cowered back on instinct. His eyes flick from her face to the candlestick, still stuck mid-swing. His shoulders seem to decompress, but his hand shake as the rage builds across his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Delilah inserts herself between the two, waving her hand. “Can we dispose of the bickering for a moment? What happened was, what, twenty years ago? More? Let go of your anger for ten minutes and we will have our resolution. Lurk, drop that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie’s fingers instantly release the candlestick, letting it fall to the floor. She looks down, staring at it dumbly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She attacked me,” Abele says. “You saw it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She tried, dear. She didn’t get far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want to kill her, fine, but we should at least remove her other hand. This is a safety matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s no threat to us now. You don’t have to worry about a thing.” She wags her fingers. “Lurk, dear, let’s go to the bedroom. We’ll discuss matters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie turns back to Abele, who is still glaring at her in revulsion. She slips around the doorway and steps off to the side, only turning her back when he’s a good few feet away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you wait out here for a spell, Luca?” Delilah wraps her arm around Billie’s waist as she approaches. Her hand rests on her hip, cool to the touch, and Billie has to force herself to relax so Delilah doesn’t feel how tense she is.  “I’ll call you when you’re needed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just...don’t do anything without me. I want to see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll see everything you need, darling. Now, Lurk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah holds Billie flush against her side as she leads her back into the bedroom. Billie’s face burns and she suppresses the instinct telling her to push Delilah away, to not let anyone so close. The fabric of her pants is scratchy, and it irritates Billie’s bare skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Delilah takes a dainty seat on the side of the bed, Billie remains standing, glowering. “I’m not playing your games. Just kill me now and get it over with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kill you?” Delilah laughs. “Why would I want to kill you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You told me you would. Something about walking in my skin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right, that little incident.” Delilah tosses her hand. “I was quite worked up at the moment. Angry, said some things I didn’t mean. Water under the bridge.” She sniffs. “Lurk, if I wanted you dead, I would have given you to any of my associates. Though truth be told, I’m not sure which would be the cruelest. The way Luca would have killed you wouldn’t have been pleasant, but it also wouldn’t have been very imaginative. Kiran is creative, but pain is a secondary objective to him. Alex, well...she might have killed you fast, that’s all the mercy you could have gotten from her. Breanna is the only one who would have given you the death you deserve. Any one of those options would have been a neat, easy way to dispose of you. Needless to say, I don’t want to kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell not?” Billie holds her arms out to the side. “I betrayed you. I’m never going to be on your side. I’m a threat. You’d be an idiot not to kill me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah just smiles, showing off all her teeth. “Oh, Lurk,” she coos. Then she points to the floor. “Kneel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word is hard, forceful, and it’s barely out of Delilah’s mouth before Billie is dropping to her knees. She kneels there, blinking as the cold of the floor seeps into her knees. She didn’t even think about moving. Her muscles just did it, of their own volition.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above her, Delilah smirks. “I suppose you’ve discovered the effects of my little gift, then? I’ve been working on the spell for ages-you were never the intended target, but you make an excellent test subject. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fantasize about finding you. I’ve had my girls search for you, try to capture you, but they turned up nothing. I thought you </span>
  <em>
    <span>must </span>
  </em>
  <span>have died. And right when I least expect it, I find you.” She throws her head back and laughs. “I wasn’t even looking for you! Alex’s target was the old man, and you practically threw yourself at her! She didn’t even know who you were until she brought you back. Thought she’d get to keep you for a snack. I have to give her someone else now, but it was a worthy trade. To have you at last.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up and tell me what this thing is.” Billie grabs at the necklace. “Is it some kind of mind control thing? What the fuck did you do to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing of the sort, dear.” Delilah leans back, her smile never dropping from her face. “And since this is your first night I will forgive your rudeness, but if it continues I will be forced to punish you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looking at your face is punishment enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not so much the pain of the slap that rocks her but the surprise. She almost falls right over. Billie is left blinking, her cheek still smarting while Delilah hovers over her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still smiling down at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll learn,” she says calmly. Delilah crosses her legs, sophisticated and proper. “Fifteen years ago I hated you. I was angry by your refusal to submit to me. I’d say that most people who defied me in that way didn’t live to tell the tale, but that wouldn’t be entirely truthful.</span>
  <em>
    <span> No one </span>
  </em>
  <span>defied me like that. No one who had become so enmeshed as you. I was so taken aback that I didn’t know what to do with you. Allowing you to leave Dunwall was a mistake I’d regret for years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So when are you getting to the part explaining why I’m still alive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush, Lurk. I told you, I don’t want you dead.” She leans back, her spine ramrod straight. “You’re sort of an...enigma, for lack of a better term. You’re the only person who has ever broken faith with me. Someone I had completely and utterly mesmerized. And completely out of your own accord, you broke free.” She tucks an imaginary hair behind her ear. “For a time I figured it must have simply been a clash of power between Marks, vying for control over you. But when I had my girls observe Daud-” Just the mention of his name makes Billie flinch. “-I realized that his Mark didn’t grant him that ability. There was no magic that bound the Whalers’ loyalty to him. Which meant that you, little Lurk…” She runs her finger down Billie’s chin, smiling all the way. “Left me out of sheer force of will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie bites back a shiver. “I can’t be the only person who ever left your coven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are not, but none of the others enjoyed positions such as yours. They were beneath my notice, often new, bottom of the pyramid. They’d become disillusioned with the allure of the coven and run off before they had the chance to take a second look. It happened rarely, and only with girls I’d taken no interest in. You, however, I worked you over for months. You had taken root. You were blossoming. And in a single moment you uprooted all my hard work without even trying. Without even realizing what you had done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t realize I meant so much to you,” Billie says, feeling a sting of pride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you meant nothing to me at the time.” Delilah fusses over what little hair Billie has on her head, pulling on the strands and frowning at the length. “You were a way to dispose of an enemy. I didn’t understand your true value until I thought back on your betrayal.” She runs her fingers through Billie’s scalp. “How were you, of all people, able to break free? You had no Mark of your own. You’re not descended from a magical bloodline. I’ve studied the forces of the Void for most of my life, and all evidence says that you should have obeyed me and slain your master that night. And I still have not been able to determine how you were able to resist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this is some natural philosophy experiment to you?” Billie raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to cut me up to see if I have magic in my bones?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing of the sort. Lurk, do you know what happened to the girls who abandoned me? Who left the coven?” Delilah’s long fingers stroke her chin. “They were dragged back. I gave them an opportunity to submit to me. Their response impacted my decision on whether to grant them a quick death or a slow one. They all bowed to me, in the end. There are only two people in the world I was unable to conquer. And that is two more than what’s acceptable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie summons up all the disgust she can feel and glares up at Delilah. “I will never bend to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah grins, showing off her teeth. “You will,” she says, leaning forward. “And making you will be such fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leans back, brushing out imaginary wrinkles on her pants. “There are many ways I could easily make you mine. I can give you all sorts of potions and tinctures that would make you feel pink as a petal, ready to devote yourself to the first person who showed you affection. I could breathe into you and you’d be too high to think clearly, to do anything but act on pure emotion. If I truly wanted to, I could wear away at your mind until you could think of nothing but pleasing me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who says any of that would even work on me?” She broke free of Delilah’s magic once, so she should be able to do it again, right? She can break this. And Delilah can’t alter her mind anymore, not like that. Not like before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s that concern, but more importantly, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>boring </span>
  </em>
  <span>would that be?” Delilah huffs and rolls her eyes. “Over and done with. No time to enjoy it. And furthermore, would you really be submitting to me? Or just the influence of my magic? No. You will come to see me for what I am. Only then will you be able to submit to me the way I deserve. Then your submission will be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweetest.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll never break me,” Billie says, with more confidence than she feels. “So you might as well kill me and get it over with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah stands up, leaning over and petting Billie’s hair like a dog. “Good,” she whispers. “Be difficult. Breaking you will be so much more interesting if you fight back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waltzes away then, humming under her breath. Billie stares at the wall, not willing to give her the satisfaction of turning to follow her. “So this is your grand plan, what you’ve been doing with your life? Sitting around and dreaming about torturing me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, dear, I won’t be torturing you.” Somewhere behind her, Delilah drops a piece of jewelry into a box. “Well, a little. I expect your training will require it, and Luca will want you to suffer. But as to your question, no. We have been very busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Busy fucking over Karnaca?” Delilah wanders back into view, shrugging off her overcoat. “I’d compliment your handiwork, but it’s hard to notice above all the people getting shot by the Grand Guard and dying of starvation in the streets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it amuses me so to see Luca use Karnaca as his playground, free of the petty restraints of society.” Delilah smiles wistfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Petty restraints like common decency?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But no, dear.” Delilah continues on as if Billie hadn’t spoken. “We have loftier goals in mind. Do you remember what I told you about my childhood in Dunwall Tower?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That your mother worked in the kitchens,” Billie says dryly. “That she lost her job after you broke something expensive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jessamine </span>
  </em>
  <span>broke it!” She suddenly yells, her smile dropping from her lips. “She </span>
  <em>
    <span>lied </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it and got me whipped for her crime!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m sure that was totally her intention. Because I know when I was eight, I was always plotting to frame random people for bullshit I did, for no good reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She did! She was a wretched human being and I don’t know how I was the only one who saw it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie rolls her eye, not caring if Delilah saw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell you,” Delilah continues on. “Is that Jessamine was a usurper. That she stole the crown from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>rightful </span>
  </em>
  <span>heir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are...you telling me that Jessamine was switched out with someone who wasn’t Euhorn Kaldwin’s daughter?” Billie squints her eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, she was. But Euhorn Kaldwin had another daughter. An </span>
  <em>
    <span>older </span>
  </em>
  <span>daughter.” Delilah crosses her legs once again. “What I didn’t tell you is that my true name is Delilah Kaldwin, the firstborn daughter of Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>rightful </span>
  </em>
  <span>Empress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie stares at her for a long moment. Then she bursts out laughing. “That’s…” She shakes her head, still smiling to herself. “Even if that is true, that doesn’t make you Empress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who says it doesn’t?” Delilah gets to her feet. “My father was going to recognize me officially, give me his name and proclaim me a princess. But then </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jessamine </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to get in the way, had to ruin it all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. She was such a political mastermind back then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now a </span>
  <em>
    <span>child </span>
  </em>
  <span>sits on my throne. Jessamine’s insufferable little brat. She has no right to it! She’s a servant’s child, a bastard!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah flicks her eyes down then, thin and murderous. Without a moment’s hesitation, she buries the toe of her boot in Billie’s stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air goes out of her, and Billie hunches over as she grabs at her stomach, trying to catch her breath. Long fingers tangle in her hair and force her head up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good to you,” Delilah hisses. “Better than you deserve, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>show me proper respect. You cannot make me kill you, no matter how hard you try, but by the Void I can make you </span>
  <em>
    <span>beg </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to do so. Do you understand, Lurk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weakly, Billie nods. Delilah releases her, and she collapses forward on her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie huffs for a few moments, then she draws herself back up. Rounds her shoulders and tries to present herself. “So if you’re the </span>
  <em>
    <span>true </span>
  </em>
  <span>heir,” she says carefully, her voice cracking a bit. “And Emperor Kaldwin was so dead-set on naming you Crown Princess, why didn’t he try to find you on the streets? Why didn’t you come forward about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t think I tried?” Delilah flounces back down on the bed. “I built up my life to do just that, to go before Emperor Daddy and show him what a better daughter he had in me. How his line was all but assured. Then he had the nerve to die. I was going to intercede after Jessamine’s crowning, when she refused to take a husband. Then that whore got herself knocked up and it was all rendered useless. I bided my time for a decade. Studying magic and exploring the ways I could use it. I had a plan. Enact my revenge on Jessamine </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>the bastard who ruined my plans in the first place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emily was ten,” Billie says, leaning away. “She didn’t do anything to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lurk, she committed the gravest offense by simply existing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie is stunned silent. Delilah gets to her feet and continues talking as if nothing’s amiss. “I had my plan, but you and Daud ruined it. First by killing Jessamine, and then by...everything that happened after that. But no one can stop me from reclaiming what is mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So all this bullshit with the Crown Killer,” Billie says. “Anton was right. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>just a plot to frame Empress Emily...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lurk,” Delilah says dangerously. “There is only one Empress. This will be the last time you commit the blasphemy of referring to someone else with my title.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t see a fucking crown on her head, but Billie has already made several stupid moves so far today. She isn’t about to point that out and make another one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So your plan is, what, wait for Dunwall to pull her and Corvo Attano out of the Tower and burn them at stake? Then you’ll swoop in and claim the throne?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bit more elegant than that, dear. There will be something of a confrontation. A trial, an acquittal, an execution...the order may jump around a bit and some of the details remain to be worked out, but in the end I will be where I deserve. I will have </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jessamine took from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie regards her carefully. “You said I wasn’t the intended recipient of this...spell. Who was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t worry about that, dear.” Delilah reaches forward to adjust the necklace, smiling at the sight of it. “You’ll learn more about our plans gradually, as it pertains to you. But tonight is not about that. It’s about learning your new place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is this bone thing you put on me?” Billie asks. “You never answered me. What does it do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s rather simple in its purpose. It ensures complete and total obedience.” Delilah smiles. “And I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>total </span>
  </em>
  <span>obedience. If I told you to cut your own throat you would do it. If I told you to forget your own name it would be erased from your mind until such a time I returned it to you. My word is quite literally god to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is that not mind control then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I could use it to influence your mind, but why would I? You can’t act against me. You have to obey my every order, no matter how humiliating or degrading they may be. The difference is-” Delilah grabs Billie by the chin and pulls her face close. “You will understand absolutely everything that happens to you. You will grow to love it in time, but you will hate it first. You will feel the shame, the despair. And when you do embrace it, it will be pure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She releases Billie then, and she stares at the floor as Delilah crosses her ankles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, then.” She folds her hands into her lap. “Let’s go over some rules. You are my property now. You are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>slave. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That means you don’t have a will of your own. If I say jump, you ask how high and memorize my answer for future reference. Is that clear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Billie says sourly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. As of right now, you are not allowed to leave the third floor of this palace. Your meals will be delivered here, any medical care you require will be attended to by a doctor within these chambers. So don’t get any ideas about injuring yourself in an attempt to flee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So am I supposed to stare at a wall all day, or do you have chores and shit for me to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want a sponge to touch your skin!” Delilah looks disturbed at the very thought. “You will leave that to the maids. But no, you do not have to ‘stare at the wall’ all day. I am a kind and generous mistress, and when you’re not carrying out your own duties I will allow you to amuse yourself in any way you like. Assuming good behavior, of course. You will keep away from that bookshelf in the corner.” Delilah points. “Barring those restrictions, you are free to take up any hobby you desire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>my duties?” Billie tries to ask, but Delilah only waves her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re getting there, pet. Obviously, you are not permitted to cover yourself.” She glances down at Billie’s naked skin. “It would be a crime to cover up such a lovely body, don’t you think? Such beauty should be on display at all times. So you are not allowed to wear clothing. There is currently no need for you to wear shoes, so you are banned from wearing those as well. I will permit you to sleep with a blanket and use a towel after bathing, but never to cover yourself. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a nudist now. Got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My charmwork will ensure complete compliance with my commands,” Delilah continues. “For brevity’s sake, I will tell you now that you are to obey Luca’s commands, as well as the commands of any of our guests. Obviously, our word takes precedence. So don’t try and trick visitors into setting you free, because it won’t work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has to obey the pig too. Billie keeps her focus on the design of Delilah’s boots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You asked what your duties are.” Delilah taps at her chin, forcing her to look up. “I am outlining them. Your duty is to obey me. You are to be a constant fixture in my home, provide me with company and companionship. You’re here to speak when I want conversation, to sit and look pretty when I want decoration.” She leans forward, whispering. “And when I want some cunt under my fist, your duty is to provide me with that. You will warm my bed and put your tongue where it pleases me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In some way, she was expecting it. “So I’m your whore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not.” Delilah scoffs. “Whores are working women. It’s their profession. They’re paid. I’m not paying you. I’m using you like the piece of property you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that still sounds like the life of most whores to me. I think you’re a bit deluded about how good they have it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lurk, if you want me to treat you like a whore I will lead you downstairs and let the guards pass you around until you pass out from exhaustion. Do you want that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘More than I want to serve you,’ is dancing on her tongue, but Billie does not see that ending well for her. So instead she shakes her head. Turns her head down. “No, mistress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d rather be my possession. Say it now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather be yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Delilah runs her hand through Billie’s hair, smiling down at her before turning her neck. “Luca! Why don’t you come in now, I think she understands the first part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie’s stomach drops as she hears Duke Abele’s footsteps approaching from behind. “Took long enough. Is she that stupid, she just couldn’t understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lurk just has a lot of questions about her new role. She wants to be prepared, to serve us the best way she can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to make me fuck him too.” Billie feels the horror creep across her face. “There’s no way he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>to have sex with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>have sex with you,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Abele says, folding his arms. “I’m going to fuck you until you cry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m talking about the act, not the verb you prefer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The words imply different acts. I have sex with real women, not street trash mutts.” Abele gestures to Delilah on the bed. “Her, I make love to. We consummate our relationship and express our love to one another. You? You, I fuck. I breed. I take you like the bitch you are. Do you understand me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand that you have a very poor understanding of what sex is, if you consider all those things to be different acts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter what you call it,” Delilah says. “I told you to obey Luca. He is your master too. So you will present yourself to him, do whatever he requires to fulfill his needs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She will never satisfy me like you do, my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why not just fuck her then?” Billie twists, looking back and forth. “Why do either of you need me when you have each other to go at it with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Lurk, you of all people should understand that not everyone can be satisfied with one person.” Delilah smiles. “Honestly, I don’t know how some are content with even one gender. They’re missing out on half the world’s beauty, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she hates that she agrees. “But he hates me.” Billie points. “Why would he do it with a woman he wants dead when he has you? Unless he’s into the amputee shit, I don’t have anything that you don’t have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do.” Abele’s voice is gruff. “Unfortunately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You owe us, Lurk,” Delilah says starkly. “Specifically, you owe Luca.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I owe him something alright, but I don’t think it’s the same thing you’re thinking of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you shut your stupid mouth? Your mistress is talking!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luca, shhh. We’re getting there.” Delilah turns back to her, smiling. She leans forward and takes Billie’s hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. “What you owe Luca, and to some extent myself...is an heir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The implication takes a moment to sink in. Then Billie’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not...no!” She rips her hand away. “I don’t owe you a child!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do.” Delilah’s face is impassive. “Three of them, in fact. One for each heir we’ve lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My younger brother died at your hands back in Dunwall,” Abele growls. “He would have been replaced as my heir, but he was my heir nonetheless. And you put a wooden gazelle through his eye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie snarls. “He killed my girlfriend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?! Who cares about a grimy street urchin?! Did the loss send the Empire reeling?! Did anyone but you even notice?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the past, in the past.” Delilah holds up her hands. “Radanis paid back his debt with his life. Now you will pay back yours with another, Lurk. You should be thankful it’s not your own life you’re paying with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fucking told you to kill me. I’d rather die than fuck your pig.” Billie sniffs in his direction. “And anyway, that’s only one heir. You never bothered to have any more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had two!” Abele fumes. “I had two of them, born of Delilah’s own womb, a son and a daughter! Daud killed them at Brigmore!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The outburst leaves Billie at loss for words for the moment, her mind turning to make sense of the statements. “No, he...Daud never hurt children.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He made an exception for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He wouldn’t have killed a child. If they died at Brigmore, then it was an accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They died because they were Delilah’s. Daud butchered them.” Abele looks away. “I couldn’t even retrieve their bones to bury here in Serkonos because they were left out in the sun to rot. I couldn’t tell them apart from that of the others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Daud hadn’t swept through Brigmore like a red tide,” Delilah says evenly. “Then we’d be having a different conversation. Our daughter, my firstborn, would be preparing to succeed Luca as Duchess of Serkonos.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She would be following me around by now,” Abele says morosely. “Learning how to rule. Instead she’s lying in the mud in Dunwall. They’re gone because of you. Because of you, I don’t even have anything to remember them by. Because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m the last remaining of my line.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s all awful,” Billie brings herself to say. “They were innocent. They didn’t deserve that. But Daud...Daud would have said the same thing. He didn’t hurt kids. It was our policy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whether it was his intention or not, they died when he assaulted their home in order to kill me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if he knew about it I’m sure it haunts him to this day! But I didn’t kill them! It wasn’t my fault!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but it is,” Delilah says coolly. Billie swallows as Delilah draws near. “If you had killed your master like I ordered you to, my children would still be alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t punish Daud for it,” Abele adds gruffly. “Daud’s not here. But you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie counts as she breathes. In for five. Out for five.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will give Luca three children,” Delilah says simply, factually. “Obviously, if you are still fit for it you will continue having children afterwards, but our goal is three. After that we might be willing to open the topic up to discussion. Your body should be able to handle three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m too old,” Billie breathes. “I’m thirty-eight. I can’t have kids now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense, you’re still bleeding. True, you’re not at your most fertile, but I have ways to improve that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Old. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Even if he knocked me up tonight, it takes almost a year to grow the damn kid! And you can’t get pregnant again right away, isn’t that a thing? I only have a few years left, what if you can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>get </span>
  </em>
  <span>three out of me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t you been listening, dear? My magic is very deep. I can extend the few years of fertility you have left. I can make you heal faster after birth, I can manipulate your cycle to increase your chances of getting pregnant. I can make your womb think it’s twenty years younger than it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie looks at Abele desperately. “You wouldn’t be able to love my children.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t.” Abele nods. “But they will cease being your children the moment you push them out of your cunt. Physically, they might have come from you, but they will always be mine and Delilah’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I won’t.” Billie shakes her head. “I never wanted kids. I don’t want </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If you put one in me, I will kill it. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, quit being so dramatic Lurk.” Delilah jerks her face towards her. “We’ll hire a wet nurse and a nanny and all those things for the children, but I won’t keep you from them. You can hold them, play with them, nurse them at your breast if you want. You’ll be grateful for them. You might even enjoy your pregnancies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The thought of being pregnant terrifies me,” Billie admits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Well, you better get over it. I want you pregnant by the Month of Harvest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you want to do this, Delilah?” Hands clap down on her hips, roughly pulling them up. Billie lets out a frightened, pitiful squeak of a sound from the back of her throat and lurches forward, instinctually retracting away from Abele, practically right into Delilah’s lap. She lays her other hand on the side of Billie’s face as Abele pulls back on her hips, unfazed. “Do you want to take her like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah’s thumb strokes over her cheek. “I think you should go to bed, Luca.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t sleep now, knowing this </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>is wandering my palace unrestrained. I’ll feel better once she’s been broken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She will be, rest assured.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a moment of silence. Then, “We’re breaking her in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to break her in. Just me. This is important, Luca. I need to impress upon her who she belongs to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hands on her waist disappear. “But I’m supposed to fuck her. I have to knock her up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can get to work on that tomorrow.” Delilah sweeps to her feet, brushing Billie by to touch Abele’s face. “I promise. Tomorrow night you will have unrestricted access to her cunt. But tonight it has to be me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abele glances down. “I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you would.” She presses their lips together, quick and to the point. “Get some rest, darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie remains kneeling long after Abele has left, feeling the cold seep into her knees. Delilah putters around the room, rummaging around and humming. Billie pays her no mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, pet.” Delilah takes her seat once again, jerking Billie’s chin up when she doesn’t immediately face her. “One last rule for you. Just in case you had any hopes of worming out of this.” She strokes down Billie’s cheek, her fingers dancing over the bones wrapped around her neck. “This does two things in addition to making you obedient. It’s impossible to take off you, for one. I’m sure you’ve figured that out for yourself.” She grins at Billie’s sullen silence. “The only person who can remove it is myself-and I have no intention of doing so as long as you live. So you will die with this on. Is that understood?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It also keeps you, I suppose the proper term would be pacified. I suppose it speaks of your tenacity that you were able to raise a hand to Luca at all, but it was in vain I’m afraid. I gave you the order to stay your hand while you slept. You’re unable to harm anyone without my explicit instruction.” She runs the tips of her nails down Billie’s side, causing her to shiver. “And now I have to specifically state that you are not allowed to harm yourself. You cannot deliberately end your own life, you cannot cause yourself injury, and most importantly you cannot induce a miscarriage. Your children will grow freely inside you, without fear that their mother will murder them in the womb.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a mother,” Billie insists. “I’m not made to be one. I had an abortion when I was nineteen because I couldn’t even think of keeping it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you have even been allowed to carry to term, had Daud found out?” Delilah muses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He knew. He arranged it for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he forced you to end your pregnancy so he could continue using you like a weapon, instead of growing freely like you were meant to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>that. He told me I could leave. I could take my pay and walk, or I could have my job back if I gave it to someone else to take care of. I didn’t want either of those things. I wanted it out of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who put the child in you, Lurk?” Delilah’s thumbs flick over her nipples, rubbing in circles. “Perhaps Daud was trying to absolve himself of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>own </span>
  </em>
  <span>responsibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know it wasn’t like that,” Billie says, disgusted. “I told you he wasn’t interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Perhaps I do recall that now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember who it was. Maybe I didn’t know at the time.” Billie wets her lips, talking faster. “I just knew I didn’t want it. Delilah, please, I will do anything you want, </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything you want, just don’t make me-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>do what I want. And you will do it without bargaining, because you have no say in the matter.” Delilah stares down at her coldly. “You don’t seem to understand your situation here, pet. You have no say in what happens to you. If you are a good pet I may </span>
  <em>
    <span>choose </span>
  </em>
  <span>to reward you, but that is as far as your power goes. There is no weaseling out of your duty. Not now. Not ever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie swallows. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Please,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she begs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough. I tire of the subject. Where is Daud, speaking of him?” Her smile returns to her face, lightly touching her fingertips to Billie’s cheek. “As I told you, only two people in the world have resisted me. Even one is too many. I wonder, what would Daud think of my new pet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie shakes her head. “I haven’t seen Daud since that night,” she says, gratefully, for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No? A pity. Well, someone must have seen him. There were over fifty of you Whalers when it was all said and done, sheer probability states that you must have kept in contact with some of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie’s heart races. “I was banished. Cast out from the city. How would I have-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ve seen no one? Not one of the Whalers? Do not lie to me, Lurk. That’s an </span>
  <em>
    <span>order.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips begin to burn, wanting to open and spill the secrets from her mouth. But Billie keeps them tightly closed, the wheels of her mind turning. Think. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Think.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t give them up. Billie shudders to think of what Delilah would do to them. Weird, nerdy Thomas, running a black market here in Karnaca, always willing to cut her a deal and stepped around the elephant in the room with such tact Billie could sometimes forget it was there. Rinaldo, who’d fucked her twice on occasions she was moored in Dunwall and took care to make her come no less than three times on both instances. One of them wasn’t even on Fugue. Little Quinn, who actually fucking ran up to Billie and </span>
  <em>
    <span>hugged her </span>
  </em>
  <span>when she spotted her at a port in Baleton. She was always so sweet, too kind for her own good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, one of them must have a better idea as to where Daud went. Some of them have probably seen him, probably know exactly where he went. Delilah will do awful things to them whether they have answers for her or not. Even the ones that Billie never liked, the ones that were absolute cunts, they didn’t deserve what Delilah would do to them. She can’t give them up to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie can’t lie. Delilah asked her if she had seen any of the Whalers. She has to tell the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah is asking Billie Lurk a question. And the thing is, she has not been Billie Lurk in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie Lurk has been dead for fifteen years. She died at the end of Daud’s mercy, and she was buried in the waters of the Flooded District. She was dead until Delilah dug her up, beat life back into her. Everything that’s happened since, Billie Lurk did none of that. Billie Lurk was dead at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any point where she’s seen the Whalers since, she wasn’t Billie Lurk then. Those meetings took place when she was Meagan Foster. They happened when she was Dee Prescott, when she was Anaya Dumais, when she was a woman named Ruby for such a short time that she didn’t even make up a surname. They did not happen when she was Billie Lurk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stares into Delilah’s eyes. “I haven’t seen anyone,” Billie answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah’s huffs, glancing off to the side. Billie breathes out and rests back on her haunches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>that worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s inconvenient,” Delilah says. “But it’s not important. Daud can’t evade me forever. My power runs too deep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He might just be dead already,” she says, even though she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can feel Daud as a stitch in this world. No, he hides and breathes still.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who says you can find him? I could never find him,” she says, even though she hadn’t tried, hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>tried. “And without me, you never would have found him the first time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, love, I’m in a position where I don’t need to find and drag him out of his hiding place. I can simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>lure </span>
  </em>
  <span>him out.” Delilah smiles, pinches a spot on her shoulder. “I have you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not stupid enough to stick his head out for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That remains to be seen. In some way, Daud will fall into my hands. And I will tell you how that little reunion will go.” Delilah fingers a strand of her hair. “I will bring you before him. Tell him what you are, what you’ve become. Tell him how thoroughly devoted you are to me. I will ravish you in front of him, so nothing’s left to his imagination.” She tugs on the strand, painfully. “If you’ve been a good girl I may let you suck his cock. Oh, don’t give me that look. You’ve wanted him in your mouth. In your cunt too, but we can’t risk anyone fucking your cunt but Luca. I’m sure I’ll do a few more things to the both of you, let you watch each other. And when he’s suffered enough, I’ll have you cut off his head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie presses her lips together to hold back the nausea growing in her stomach. “You just told me I can’t hurt anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can if I order you to. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>will.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Delilah flicks some dust off her blouse. “Maybe I’ll put his head in a jar, keep it next to our bed. Would you like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Delilah, I would rather fuck a pack of Overseer hounds than do a single thing you’ve outlined for me tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That can always be arranged, dear. Dogs can’t knock you up. Normally they’d tear you apart, but I might be able to whip something up that would make you more resilient. That’s definitely something we can consider, if you continue to insist on being so rebellious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie glares. “Why should I ever give in to you? What reason have you given me? You’ve told me you’re going to treat me like dirt and there’s nothing I can do that will make you stop treating me like dirt, so why should I try?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the beauty of it. There’s nothing in it for you. So when you submit, I know it will be for love of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie glares at the edge of the bedspread as Delilah gets to her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look so glum, Lurk,” Delilah says from behind her. “Do you honestly think I’m going to keep you naked and barefoot, hidden away in my rooms for the rest of your life?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s kind of how you made it sound.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Contrary to what you probably believe, I do not hate you Lurk.” A cabinet squeaks. Billie sets her jaw and refuses to turn around. “I’m willing to see you freed from your chains. You will always be mine, of course, but I will give you the opportunities to earn bits of your freedom back. Be a good slave and you’ll be allowed to roam more of the palace, enjoy privileges that few servants see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think the Duke will approve of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luca will come around to the idea. And anyways, this won’t be our primary residence forever.” There’s a shuffle, and the sound of a buckle. “In time, I may allow you to socialize with others. Accompany me in public. Even go out in public by yourself, once you prove you can be trusted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will I still be naked for all that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, it will depend on my mood. I tease, Lurk. Yes, in time you’ll be permitted to wear clothing as well. Though now I’m getting awfully turned on by the thought of you trailing after me at some grand ceremony, everyone dressed in their finest and you bare as the day you were born. Do you like that idea? Everyone would see how gorgeous you are. What a slut you are. Stand up, Lurk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie’s knees creak as she gets up, and she makes a point of standing there, rolling her shoulders and stretching her back while Delilah waits for her. Then she turns around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah is wearing a strap-on. She hasn’t bothered to take off her clothes, just slipped it on over her pants. She grins when Billie sees it. It may just be the fact that it’s been a damn while since she fucked something with a dick or because she can’t refuse this one, but it looks big. Too big. Maybe not ridiculously thick, but it’s long enough that she could probably use it to replace her forearm. Damn thing is an ugly shade of puce yellow too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie’s eyes flick up and down. “I don’t think that’s going to fit in my cunt. You don’t want me all stretched out for the Duke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who said this is going in your cunt? I remember how much you liked it in the ass.” Delilah embraces her, turning Billie around and biting her ear. “Get on the bed,” she whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie stares at the wood paneling as she complies. “If you think this is going to be some humbling experience, I’ve had worse.” Everything she mentioned tonight seems worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s purpose isn’t to be painful, Lurk.” Her fingers slide under the necklace, pulling until it digs into the soft flesh of her throat. “It’s meant to show you who’s in charge of you. Reinforce what you are now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah presses on her back. Billie slowly bends, turning her head as her cheek is pressed into the comforter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a shame, really,” Delilah says as she traces the curve of her back. “Whatever happened to you. These scars tell beautiful stories, but the stump is so...</span>
  <em>
    <span>unsightly. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ll be able to fix that, but I’m at loss for your face. Luca complained about your eye for </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was so tiresome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie feels Delilah’s fingers begin to pry her apart, and she lifts her head. “Aren’t you going to use oil?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pain, dear. Pain and suffering will be your teacher.” With that, Delilah’s hand presses Billie’s face back into the covers. “You won’t like it. I don’t expect you to like it. Fight. Struggle. But whatever you do…” She presses the tip of the dildo to Billie’s ass. “Please don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>break </span>
  </em>
  <span>too easily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah shoves into her then. The pain is hot, like fire at the base of her spine. Billie’s mouth opens, and she turns her face into the covers just in time to muffle her shout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah begins to pull out, then in again. There’s something wet dripping down her leg and Billie knows she’s bleeding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll come like this,” Delilah hisses. “You’ll come for me. This won’t end until you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, that wouldn’t be a challenge. Billie does legitimately enjoy anal and this is typically a very pleasurable position for her. But without lube, without preparation, with the sheer </span>
  <em>
    <span>size </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the damn thing, it’s just...it’s too much. It hurts in all the wrong ways. She wants it to stop, she wants it </span>
  <em>
    <span>out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah’s hips smack against hers as she thrusts, holding Billie down all the way. “Does it hurt, love?” she pants. “Why don’t you resist? Pull away? I’m not restraining you.” She digs her fingers into Billie’s hair. “There’s nothing keeping you here, taking my cock. You’re Billie Lurk. Daud’s right-hand blade. Where’s all that ferocity now? Why don’t you fight back? You’re stronger than me. And yet you’re just lying here, taking it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She digs into the handful of hair she can grasp and pulls, hard. “You do it because you know you’re not the Knife’s lieutenant anymore. You’re nothing. You’re my slut and you know it. That’s all you are, and all you will </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah’s other hand slides down to her chest, her fingers closing around one nipple and twisting until she hears Billie’s hitch of breath, then snakes her hand down. Billie turns her face into the pillow so Delilah doesn’t see her face screw up with pain, doesn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her eyes water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fingers on her cunt. Spreading her apart, teasing the area around her opening. Then Delilah sets two fingers at her clit and goes to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie groans and pushes against her. Delilah pushes right back, grinding her hips down in time with her fingers. She presses Billie tight, with nowhere to go, and Billie just moans and rocks along with her. She wants more, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs </span>
  </em>
  <span>more. She wants to stop, she needs to come, she feels water running down her cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah pulls Billie back, her lips at her ear. “Listen to me, pet,” she whispers. “And listen well. I. Will. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Break. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You.” She punctuates each word with a thrust of her hips, jerking harshly on her handle of hair. “And I want you to fight me the entire way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it’s just the sound of slapping, ruffled fabrics as she’s held down. Delilah fucks her and fingers her clit and Billie’s head swarms with thoughts and emotions that she desperately doesn’t need right now. She pushes against Delilah’s fingers, back against her fake member. She moves her hips, she moans at the right times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She comes, gasping into the blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delilah pulls out of her. When Billie brings her hand to her face, it comes away wet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie lays on her stomach as Delilah’s footsteps wander away, as the bathroom sink runs and a cabinet is open. She hears Delilah removing her clothing, hears the fabric hit the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s still rather early, but I’m exhausted,” Delilah says as she pulls down the covers. “Get in, Lurk. Don’t worry about the blood. The maids will take care of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie maneuvers just enough to slip under the covers, resting her head on the pillow and facing away from Delilah. She comes up behind her, wrapping an arm around her midsection and pulling Billie close. Delilah lays a kiss on the side of her neck. “Good night, Lurk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billie stares into the darkness and thinks not a single thought until exhaustion claims her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>But for fucking real. Delilah has got to know where Billie is in canon. Breanna notices her poking around and she definitely met Billie before, so why are they just leaving her be? They kidnapped her third dad and then just expected her to not be a problem?</p><p>This whole thing kicks off a little sooner than in canon, because if Sokolov's kidnapping took place at the same time then we'd have like three weeks before the events of DH2. And without Billie there Emily/Corvo wouldn't have been able to get out of the city, Delilah would be totes successful, and I'm sick of writing stories that take place in Dunwall. So as far as this goes, Sokolov decides to tell Corvo and Emily about the Crown Killer conspiracies earlier, so he doesn't have as many details as they do in canon but thinks it's too risky to stay in Karnaca collecting intel on their own. (which, to be fair he is entirely correct) Haven't hammered down exact dates here but we're somewhere in early spring, while DH2 takes place in the middle of summer, so roughly four-ish months before the start of DH2?</p><p>For the people who read The Red Queen and know my OCs Joshua and Rose-I think most people have picked up on it, but I've heavily implied that they're Delilah's kids. Sorry, can't keep it vague here. I don't really think Abele is their father...but Abele certainly <i>thinks</i> he is. And it serves Delilah for him to think that, and doubly so to think they're dead and unable to disprove her story. So that's what she told him. I mean, it's definitely possible for Abele to be their father, he and Delilah did meet when they were pretty young and she is a huge ho. But I feel bad because like...look at him. And I mean, neither twin is supposed to be super attractive but come ON. I really don't have anyone in particular in mind for the biological father, so it's whoever. (let's be real, Delilah probably just knocked herself up out of sheer force of will) Reed is the twins' half-brother and has a completely different dad, and only fuck knows who Delilah was fucking then.</p><p>I feel like the racism deserves its own warning. I really do not want to make race a key theme here, but at the same time I feel like it would be supreme rugsweeping to just pretend that Billie's race would have nothing to do with things. Pandyssian natives are canonically used as slaves in the Isles and Billie is most likely descended from some, and while that's not going to be talked about a lot it is going to be brought up from time to time. So there will be some racism, and possibly some racial slurs. Probably mostly from Abele. Fuck Abele.</p><p>I've had this idea for a while and have written quite a lot already, but honestly due to the problematic themes and how awful I am at writing sex scenes I've been too nervous to post it. But I'm not writing much else right now so I might as well put SOMETHING out. I'm still continuing The Red Queen-I still love the story and really want to finish it, but I'm just kind of burnt out from writing it right now. It's in a good place to go on hiatus, I think. Yeah, I could write for a different fandom or write my own original fiction to break writer's block, but fuck that.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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